


Show Praise (with your bodies)

by ShippingEverything



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: M/M, based vaugely off of the 1994 movie Priest, moritz deserves happiness and yet here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Melchior is looking at him with eyes full of pity and longing and something deeper that Moritz can’t--won't--let himself explore, so Moritz turns to look out the window. There’s an acacia tree nearby, blossoming and beautiful and swaying in the soft breeze, unaware of the turmoil in Moritz’s soul.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Praise (with your bodies)

**Author's Note:**

> i love suffering
> 
> title from patd's Hallelujah

**show praise (With Your Body)**

 

It’s a beautiful spring day; the leave buds are beginning to grow, the birds are singing, the sun is shining. Moritz is in his civilian clothes--so different from the coarse vestments that he wears when he’s in his own town--and it’s the beginning of the end. Melchior throws the car into park when they reach a secluded landing and Moritz glares at him for it.

“You’ve brought me to a _spot_ ,” Moritz accuses, “A place where misguided teens come to- to-”

“You did say you wanted to go somewhere private,” Melchior grins . Moritz huffs, his hand on the door, and Melchior sighs before continuing, “No, wait, I’m sorry. I came here because it’s noon on a weekday, no one’ll be around. This is as private as it gets.”

 _He has a point_ , Moritz thinks, but he still says “I’m not going to ‘hook-up’ with you.”

Melchior snorts, “A bit too late for that.”

‘Too late’ indeed--four to six times (depending on how you describe a hook-up) too late, in fact. Moritz flushes angrily, though whether that anger is at himself or at Melchior is unknown even to him.  “This is exactly what I was talking about!” This has to stop. It was just an-”

“An accident?” Melchior asks, voice hard and mouth twisted, “What, you _accidentally_ walked into a gay bar, _accidentally_ brought me a drink, _accidentally_ came back to my place and pounded me into the mattress?” Melchior scoffs and Moritz’s head spins. “Face the facts, Moritz, you’re _gay_.”

“I’m not! I’m a priest and I serve the lord and- I’m not-” Moritz’s voice cracks. He swallows thickly before whispering “I’m not gay.”

Melchior is looking at him with eyes full of pity and longing and something deeper that Moritz can’t--won't--let himself explore, so Moritz turns to look out the window. There’s an acacia tree nearby, blossoming and beautiful and swaying in the soft breeze, unaware of the turmoil in Moritz’s soul.

“Okay,” Melchior says suddenly, his voice loud as a shot after the tense silence in the car. “Okay. You’re not gay, this has to stop, I get it. But can I just…”

And then he’s _right there_ , leaning over the console into Moritz’s space. Melchior’s eyes are closed and the sun hits his face at an angle that makes him look nearly ethereal. Moritz’s heart races in- What? Fear? Arousal? Guilt? Moritz doesn’t know anymore. As Melchior’s chapped lips meet his, his eyes drift closed and his mouth falls open. It’s almost embarrassing, how easily Moritz gets into the rhythm of kissing Melchior, even after weeks of training himself to resist and be _normal_. It’s not for a long time, what may’ve been minutes or hours or days, that Moritz is drawn out of his kiss-induced haze by a knock on the window behind him.

Moritz pushes Melchior off and turns around to apologize to whoever it it. He pales. Melchior squeaks. It’s a cop.

 

He takes them both down to the station. _Public indecency_ , is what he’s charging them with, because the tips of Melchior’s fingers were beneath Moritz’s waistband and because their kissing was rocking the car enough to make the officer expect something more.

“Occupation?” The cop asks, and Moritz’s stomach turns.

He had known that this day would come, because of course it was going to if he didn’t end things with Melchior, but… Moritz wants to scream and throw things and ask God _why_.

“Son, I’m going to need your occupation. You can cooperate or not.”

“Pr-Priest,” Moritz forces out. He wets his lips when the cop blinks at him. “I’m a priest at St. Susanne’s.”

For a moment, it’s silent. Then the cop’s stony face cracks and he starts _laughing_ , loud and grating and like the sound of Moritz’s life being destroyed. “Oh, forgive me, _father_ , but this is _too much_!” The cop jokingly crosses himself then snorts, “A gay priest, ha!”

Moritz does nothing but look down blankly at the desk. It’s the beginning of the end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: acacia blossoms mean concealed love lol
> 
> catch me on [twitter @squidias](http://twitter.com/squidias) or on [tumblr](http://www.bisexualwilliampoindexter.tumblr.com)


End file.
